


second verse (same as the first)

by youcouldmakealife



Series: duelling banjos [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alyosha fell in love in bits and pieces. It’s not something he’s proud of, but he’ll admit it, at least to himself. At least now. He didn’t notice it, and that’s his excuse, one of many, one that he prepared, waiting for Julien’s interrogation, steeling himself, knowing he deserved it. He didn’t notice it as it happened, didn’t notice until he was up to his neck and drowning in it.</p><p>Julien kissed him first. Alyosha’s not blaming him, but that is a fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	second verse (same as the first)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [segunda estrofa (igual que la primera)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107526) by [Aisjustrunning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisjustrunning/pseuds/Aisjustrunning)



When Alyosha came to Canada, he spoke a handful of English, enough for a tourist and not someone meant to stay. His North American agent spoke Russian, but in halting tones that made Alyosha wince to think what he himself sounded like in English. There was no one else, not really, not in Vancouver.

Alyosha came with a handful in English and a satisfactory, if not exemplary, grade in his school French. It was almost a matter of course that he latched on to Julien, even if his French was harsh and difficult to understand. They made themselves understood, through a mix of Parisian and Quebecois, added pantomime, and the room laughed at them. 

Alyosha didn’t need to understand English to understand laughter. That was universal. He didn’t think it was malicious, still doesn’t, but it made him wary, made him depend even more on Julien, on their bastard French, their growing English, Julien’s new, faltering Russian, and hand motions when all else failed. Coach put them on a line together. They broke every rookie record the Canucks had built over twenty years, and then they started to get going.

*

Alyosha fell in love in bits and pieces. It’s not something he’s proud of, but he’ll admit it, at least to himself. At least now. He didn’t notice it, and that’s his excuse, one of many, one that he prepared, waiting for Julien’s interrogation, steeling himself, knowing he deserved it. He didn’t notice it as it happened, didn’t notice until he was up to his neck and drowning in it.

Julien kissed him first. Alyosha’s not blaming him, but that is a fact.

*

They were unstoppable. If not unstoppable, close. The media crowned them “Calder Incarnate”, which went promptly over their heads until Morin translated for Julien, and then Julien, confused looking, for Alyosha. He wasn’t sure, even then, that he understood it entirely, but it was a compliment, he knew that much, and one him and Julien obliged. 

They competed with one another for the Calder, but every single step taken meant an assist for Julien on Alyosha’s goal, vice versa, Julien’s helmet tapping his as one or the other or both notched a goal, an assist, a secondary assist. Competition never felt like losing. 

Alyosha led the team in goals. Julien took it in total points. The team stopped laughing at them, at least where Alyosha could see. Alyosha won the Calder, and Julien beamed brighter than he did when he won it. 

He wanted Julien for the first time that year. He doesn’t know when, exactly, but he does know that. It was three years before Julien did anything. Alyosha’s not assigning blame. That is a fact.

*

Before Alyosha sealed a contract with Vancouver, he was courted. Offered things on the boundaries of fair play, offered things far past the line. Julien was set on Vancouver. Offered millions by the Nordiques, eight hours from his hometown rather than a continent away, in a city that spoke his language. Turned it down, because Vancouver was his city.

In Vancouver Alyosha had a fervent fanbase, a respectful coaching staff, management that offered him what he was worth. That was irrelevant. Julien took the contract because Vancouver was his city.

Alyosha took it because Vancouver was theirs.

*

Once, Julien told him he loved him. An undramatic moment. They were eating dinner.

Julien said it in Russian, so Alyosha had no out, no way to pretend an error in translation. Julien’s accent was rough around the edges, but they both knew he’d been understood. 

It wasn’t an error made twice. Alyosha was never sure if it was relief he felt, in the end, that Julien kept his mouth shut after that, was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Was never sure what he would have done if Julien had repeated the mistake. 

*

Alyosha had the feeling, slightly absurd, that if he he’d be able to tell, his parents would have disapproved because Julien wasn’t — because Julien had no class. If it had been different, if Julien had been Julie or Juliette, or anyone other than himself, that it wouldn’t matter, because Julien was ill-bred, ill-educated. He had the best on-ice IQ Alyosha had ever seen, and he knew enough Russian after five years to laugh at Alyosha’s jokes, but Alyosha had heard French players mocking his accent, had heard the chirps that came from it. 

He had a certain lower class charm.

Alyosha hates himself for thinking that.

* 

In the end he was simply Jules. Who rejected the idea of God but whose curses inevitably returned to the church. Who could shrug off comments of any stripe, up to and including faggot, pedik, any of that ilk, without blinking, but went quiet when he was called trailer trash. Who wasn’t acceptable, starting and ending with the fact he was a man, but also because he was an uncultured, unrefined Canadian who swore every other sentence. Alyosha’s parents were doctors. Alyosha had been raised to expect better. 

In the end Alyosha loved him so hard it burnt like acid when he let himself think about it. Most of the time, he didn’t, because it made life easier, but it is so hard not to think when you have been taught to scrutinize every move you make.

Jules, who loved Alyosha. Alyosha wishes there had been plausible deniability on that front, but Julien had said it. Jules had said it, and Alyosha had believed it, and that’s where they were when Alyosha ran away.

He won’t deny it. He ran. 

*

He expected Russia to be easier. He expected going home to be a reprieve. As if he could shed everything by leaving Canada, as if Canada had been the crux of the matter, and as soon as he breathed Russian air again, knowing he wasn’t going back, that he would be cured.

It didn’t work out that way. Returned to Moscow, returned to family, to family pressure, easy to shrug off when he was lived in Vancouver and could escape at the end of summer, but gentle inquiries about whether there were any good Russian girls in Vancouver were nothing compared to when he was home, in his thirties now, a millionaire, so why was he alone?

He got married, in the end, because it was easier, because he thought she knew, even if neither of them said it, and was positive she wouldn’t care either way, because they both knew she wasn’t marrying him for his personality. He wasn’t offended. He’d been shit company since he came home.

It was a summer wedding. He invited Julien, along with a smattering of Canucks, current and old, that made up the core when they tore up the ice. It was a long distance, and he didn’t expect any of them to come, but it was the polite thing to do. He invited Julien, and he didn’t expect him to come.

He hoped, he thinks. It didn’t matter. Julien stayed in Canada, and Alyosha got married in front of several more Canucks than he would have expected, and Julien didn’t come, and that was fine.

*

It is impossible to miss the news coming out of the NHL, the first gay NHL player, and then the second. Alyosha’s retired now, has been for years, but he’s at the helm of a club, and they’re all talking about it, smirks and exaggerated disgust, talk of what they would do if there was one of that ‘kind’ in the KHL.

It’s impossible not to think of Julien when the news comes out.

It’s more impossible not to think of Julien when Julien comes out.

He finds out before the press springs it on him, which is a small mercy. One that means he’s prepared for the question, prepared an answer that amounts to no answer. 

Julien goes on a talk show and Alyosha watches it on youtube. His English is rusty and he never understood Julien in English anyway, but he looks good. A little older, a little grey at the temples, softer in retirement, but he still looks like the man Alyosha left.

Julien has talk shows, and Alyosha has questions about his former linemate. 

Alyosha has no comment.


End file.
